The Last Chance
by VessieD
Summary: Set after the S10 finale. Tony and Ziva might finally be able to take their f-f-friendship to the next level, but they have to overcome some difficulties and face their demons first. Multi-chapter, multi-genre, Tiva.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:I don't own NCIS or any of its associated characters or intellectual properties. No copyright infringement intended.**_

**Even though I should study for my exams, fanfic ideas keep flooding my brain, so I decided to put them on paper.**

**This fanfic takes place after Season 10 finale and is mainly about Tiva, however, some parts of it will be focused on other people and cases also. ****It's going to have multiple chapters, each of them ending with a bit of a twist.**

**I would like to thank Kat (Lyrander215) for beta.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

"She should be here any minute," Tim looked at his watch and ordered another Mojito.

"I can't believe you're actually going to introduce me to your girlfriend," Tony smiled contentedly.

"I know if I didn't, you would bug my phone and go through my trash."

"Oh come on, I still have some dignity. I'd never go through your trash. I might follow you home and peek through your window, but..."

"Yeah, because _that_ doesn't sound creepy at all."

Tony was thinking of a funny remark when his phone rang. "Ah, Ziva probably got stuck in traffic and wants to know if the divine Delilah's arrived. I'm gonna take it outside," he took the phone and went out.

"Hey, Ziva. She's not here yet. Where are you?"

"At the airport."

Tony frowned. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes, actually, I would like to get out of DC for a couple of weeks. I just wanted to let you know, because you like to jump to conclusions and you would probably think I disappeared or was kidnapped..."

"Well thanks, that's very thoughtful. Where are you going?"

"I do not know yet."

"Are you okay?"

"I will be. I just need a break, get a second wind, you know." Her voice seemed somewhat shaky.

"Maybe you could wait a few days, think it through... Tim and I would be more than happy to advise you on your holiday location."

"That will not be necessary, but thank you. See you in a few weeks, Tony."

"No, Ziva, wait," he started, but she had already hung up.

He came back to the bar and noticed a pretty brunette sitting on his barstool.

"Tony, this is Delilah. Delilah, this-"

"I'm very speci-... I'm Tony. It's a pleasure to meet you," he smiled at her and shook hands with her. "You're a lucky guy, Tim. Um, listen, I gotta go, Zivemergency."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Yet," he put a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, took his phone out of the pocket and took a picture of Delilah. "For Ziva," he explained to the surprised brunette and left the bar.

...

Not knowing how much time he had before Ziva figured out where she wanted to go, he made a quick stop at home, packed a few things, fed his goldfish Kate and took a taxi to the airport.

Thanks to that tracking app on his phone, which Abby had installed on all their cells, he found Ziva pretty quickly. She was sitting at a café, sipping cappuccino and watching the news.

"I heard Florida is wonderful this time of year."

Ziva turned to him and looked at his small suitcase. "I wanted to say goodbye, I was not inviting you to go with me."

"You maybe didn't say it," he sat next to her, "but I knew you were thinking it. You shouldn't be alone, Ziva. Not after everything that has happened."

"We could all use some alone time."

"We could also use some fun."

"I need to think about what I want to do with my life."

"No, you need to stop thinking. You need to enjoy your freedom, your life."

"Don't you have something better to do?"

"Actually, no."

Ziva sighed. "Nothing I say will make you leave me alone, right?"

"Right."

She rolled her eyes and finished the coffee. "Fine. Do you know any good places?"

"That depends... Have you packed your bikini?"

"I might have."

"Okay, in that case I know the perfect place to go."

...

"I'm simply saying the flight attendant was rude."

"SHE was rude? Tony, you stole a Coke from a six-year-old."

"It was the last Coke they had! Plus, six-year-olds shouldn't be drinking Coke in the first place!"

"This really looks like the end of the world," Ziva looked around her. "I am not surprised your uncle moved to the city."

"Okay, it might be a bit far from civilization, but I guarantee you - the house is beautiful, the ocean is warm, and the sand is soft. You will have the time of your life here."

"Are you sure about the weather forecast?" she looked up. "Because this definitely looks like a rain cloud," she pointed at a slow moving gray cloud above their heads.

"Twenty percent chance of showers."

"All right, if you say so..."

When they got to the house, they were both soaking wet. Tony closed the door and locked it.

"Twenty percent chance of showers," Ziva grinned and wrung out her hair.

He took off his jacket and his glare was telling her to shut up.

"Time of my life," she whispered to herself, when Tony went to the living room to light a fire in the fireplace so that they could dry their clothes.

"When I bought this suitcase, the man told me it was waterproof."

"Well, he obviously lied," she smiled slightly, watching him take his things, all wet, out of the suitcase.

"My movies!" he squeaked.

"You brought movies?"

He gave her a "we've-known-each-other-for-eight-years-how-can-yo u-even-ask-this-question" look.

"Of course you did."

"You can thank me later. What's in your suitcase?"

"Nothing worth looking at," she smirked.

"Oh, I'd like to take a look."

"Are you just being curious, or do you really want to creep through my underwear so badly?"

"Can't it be both?"

"I am going to change into something...not wet."

"Yeah, me too." Suddenly, he realized none of his clothes were dry. "I suppose you don't have anything that would...you know...fit me?"

"I do not, sorry."

"Okay. I'll think of something. There's a bathroom at the end of the hall, last door on your right. You can change there."

...

"Do we have any food?" she asked when she came back.

"I found some cookies," she heard his voice from the kitchen. She went there and found him standing in front of the pantry. He was wearing only boxers and he didn't seem to mind.

"There's some canned food, but I think it's been there since the war, so I wouldn't open them-" he noticed her looking at him. "What?"

"Should I look around to find you something to...cover yourself?"

"I'm fine."

"But I am not. I feel uncomfortable."

"Then take off your clothes as well. Maybe you'll feel less uncomfortable." He was so enjoying this.

"I will go look for a blanket, or something."

"Is there something wrong with my body? I started working out."

"It is not particularly warm in here; you might catch a cold."

"So you're worried about my health."

"Precisely."

"I'd rather worry about the lack of food. I can't survive on cookies for long. I should go out and check if the shop by the gas station is open."

"You cannot go there, it is raining cows and dogs!"

He smiled. "Cats. It's raining cats and dogs."

"Whatever. You get my point."

"Do you get mine? We need food."

"I was trained to survive without food for a week."

"Well I was trained to eat every two hours."

"I think I packed a few sachets of instant porridge if that helps."

"Ugh. I'd rather open one of those cans."

The sound of thunder resonated through the house and all lights went out.

"Perfect. A thunderstorm and a blackout."

"At least you're not hungry and half naked," he mumbled.

"Do not worry, I will be."

"What? Naked?" She couldn't see it, but his eyes lit up.

"No, hungry."

Tony found a flashlight in one of the kitchen drawers and kept looking for food, while Ziva was keeping an eye on his clothes hanging by the fireplace. When he finally came back from the kitchen, he had a victorious smile on his face, a jar of peanut butter in one hand and a few sachets of cookies and dried fruits in the other.

"Look what I found!" he swelled with pride as if he had just confiscated war booty.

"Does that mean you will stop whining?"

"I'm not whining. It's completely natural to be hungry."

"Have you ever not been hungry?"

He gave her a serious look. "I'm an NCIS agent; I need a constant supply of energy. I mean, I was an NCIS agent."

There was a moment of silence. Every time he realized he's unemployed, it felt like being stabbed in the heart with a dagger.

"I think this one is dry enough for you to wear it," she handed him one of the T-shirts that hung by the fireplace.

Tony put it on and sat on the couch. "This is not really how I imagined it."

Ziva smiled and sat next to him. "How did you imagine it?" she opened a pack of cookies and reached for the peanut butter.

"Well, let's just say I wasn't expecting me to be the one in nothing but underwear." His hearty laugh lit up the room. "No, I just thought we would cook something delicious, open a bottle of fine wine, and then sit on the beach, watching the stars."

"That sounds very romantic."

"Oh, I'm a hopeless romantic."

Ziva smiled and handed him the peanut butter. "Well, Tony, if it makes you feel any better, I do find this moment quite romantic too."

"It has its charm, doesn't it? The fireplace, the blackout, this, probably expired, peanut butter... My uncle knows how to live."

"So, am I going to meet this uncle of yours?"

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea. See, in our family, all the men are..."

"Womanizers?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

She smiled and looked at the fire. "At least you have some family. All my relatives are dead and none of them died of natural causes. It is almost like a curse. Makes me think how much time I have left."

"All the time you want," he gave her one of those adorable comforting smiles. "And you have us. Some of us might be weird, mentally unstable, geeky, nosy...Gibbs...but hey, no one's perfect."

"Have you talked to Abby?"

He nodded. " She's not taking it well."

"I am not blaming her, it is a massive change, and it all happened so suddenly... Gibbs is gone, we resigned, Tim has found himself a girlfriend..."

"Speaking of the girlfriend," Tony remembered and reached for his phone. "I thought you might want to see her," he found the picture he had taken at the bar and handed Ziva the phone.

"She is very pretty. But I expected no less."

"Yeah, he's a lucky bastard."

Ziva gave him the phone back and opened another pack of cookies. "I am happy for him. This has been one stressful and a rather unfortunate year, he deserves to have someone who can help him take his mind off it."

"Oh I'm happy for him, too. It's just... I don't know, life seems somehow empty now.

"I know. However, as much as it crushes me, I cannot imagine how you must be feeling."

"That job was my life. It made me the man I am today, and it just...it was breaking my heart to put my badge on Vance's table. Tim is a young MIT genius, he'll find a new place in no time. You," he looked at her, "you are beautiful and smart and badass. You can do whatever you want. I, on the other hand, am quite old and I can't do anything else other than what I've been doing my whole life."

"There is still a chance we can go back."

"You really believe that?"

"That is of the things life has taught me; never to lose hope."

"Look at you. You're so strong and determined, and I'm here whining like a little kid who fell off a bike."

"Well, to be honest, it is nice to see you from a different perspective."

"As a broken man?"

"No, as a man, who is not hiding behind jokes and who is able to talk about his feelings."

"Yeah, I guess I was never really good at talking about feelings."

"Neither was I."

"You were trained not to be."

"You know what? I am seriously going to miss this."

"What?"

"Us, the dynamic we have."

"Wait, what do you mean, you're gonna miss it? You plan on staying in DC, right?"

She bit her lip and looked away. "I have not decided yet."

"Are you seriously considering moving away?" he was so shocked he even stopped eating.

"Not moving, but I would like to travel Europe," she shrugged. "I would like to go to places without having to trace or kill somebody."

"Oh, I see. Okay, um, that sounds...that sounds pretty good."

He was never very good at lying, especially when he tried to lie to her.

"Unless you gave me a good reason to stay," she said suddenly, looking into his eyes.

He took his time, looking at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking, until he realized she was just waiting for him to make his move. "I've just lost my badge. I can't lose the only thing I have left that I care about. I know it's selfish, but I need you in my life."

Ziva moved a little closer to him and gently stroked his cheek. "In that case, I might reconsider my plans."

There was a quick moment of loud looks they exchanged, and it was Ziva, who interrupted it, when she looked at his lips, like she always did. But this time it was different. She felt so calm and safe and so close to him, there was no place for struggle in her mind on whether she should kiss him or not. She moved even closer to him; so close he could feel her warm breath on his lips. She closed her eyes and felt her whole body quivering.

Then, all of a sudden, Tony's phone rang. Ziva opened her eyes and saw Tony's face turning from disappointment to anger.

"I had no reception five minutes ago," he mumbled angrily and put the caller on speaker phone. "It'd better be a matter of life and death," he said instead of a greeting.

"It is, Tony." It was McGee and he sounded confused. "I just got a call from Vance. FBI found Parsons at his house with a bullet in his head. Wherever you are, you need to come back, ASAP."

* * *

**What can you expect in the next chapter:  
****- Tony and Ziva sharing (not only) things about their parents,  
****- someone gets in some serious trouble.****  
**

**Please, review and let me know how/if you liked it. I love to interact with my readers. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's the next chapter. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, keep them coming, because they really motivate me to write.**

******Again, thanks Kat (Lyrander215) for beta. :)**

* * *

...

Tony and Ziva exchanged perplexed looks.

"Well, it's kinda apocalyptic here at the moment, Tim. If we're lucky, we can be in DC tomorrow evening."

"Make it afternoon, it looks like we might be in trouble."

"Why? We did not do anything," Ziva frowned.

"We resigned," Tony sighed, as he realized what was going on. "We resigned to cover for our boss, who was being investigated by Parsons."

"They think we killed him? That is preposterous!" Ziva jumped to her feet. All the romance was suddenly gone. She realized she was angry not because someone was accusing her of murder (she was quite used to that), but because every time she had a moment with Tony, something had to come up and ruin it.

"I'm sure it'll clear up," Tony tried to calm her down.

"That's why you have to come back," Tim said.

"We'll set off as soon as the storm ends. Keep us posted. Oh, and say hello to the lovely Delilah," Tony grinned and hung up. "So, it looks like I won't get to see you in a bikini any time soon," he looked at Ziva.

"I would rather you saw me in a bikini than in an orange jumpsuit," she sighed and came to the window. "How long does it usually rain here?"

"Last time I was here, it rained for four days, but that was in October."

"Great. We should get going when the storm subsides, which should be, judging from the pause between lightning and thunder in about three hours."

"Mossad skills?"

"Actually, no. My father taught me that when I was a little girl. I was scared of storms and I could not sleep when there was one, so he made it a game for me to count between lighting and thunders to see how far from me the storm was. I usually got so tired of counting I fell asleep," she smiled, looking out the window in at the rain.

"When did you stop being scared of storms?"

She bit her lip and turned around. "When I discovered that there are worse things to be scared of. You grow up very fast in Israel, especially in a family like mine."

"Well, in my family, one never grows up," he tried to make her smile, and he succeeded. "Although, my childhood wasn't the best either."

"On the plane, you said you spent some time here as a little boy," she reminded him.

"I did, I, um, spent a few summers as a kid, back when my mom was...still here."

"It must have been great."

He nodded with a nostalgic smile on his face. "It was. We were one big, happy family back then. My dad and my mom were in love and everything was perfect. I remember that each night, my mom read me bedtime stories, and then they sat on the beach with my dad and they talked for hours. And it was here, actually, where I first played the piano. It was standing right there in the corner by the window."

"Your mother taught you?"

"At first, I would just listen to her playing, but then I wanted to try it myself, so we spent hours here. I tried so hard to make her proud... And the fact is I never stopped."

Ziva felt a sudden need to hug him; that's how touched she was by his words. It was the first time he had opened up to her about his mother.

"I am sure she would be very proud of you, Tony."

"I'm sure she would ship us as much as my dad," he laughed to lighten up the atmosphere; it was getting too nostalgic. There was trouble waiting for them in DC and they really needed to have some fun before facing it.

"Ship us where?"

"No, ship us - like she'd think we would make a nice couple."

"Oh, I see. In that case, I think Judy from accounting ships us too."

"Isn't she the one who was spreading rumours about us?"

Ziva nodded. "I took care of that."

"She still has both her arms, right?"

"I did not harm her, Tony, do not worry. If I had to harm everyone who spreads rumours about me sleeping with you, I would have to beat up half of the NCIS staff, including McGee."

"Yeah, I think it's safe to say he's our biggest shipper. I still can't get over the fact that he imagined the two of us having sex on the beach and then actually wrote about it."

"Do not forget the fact that Gibbs has read it."

The two exchanged awkward looks and then burst out laughing.

...

Eight hours later, they were both already asleep on the plane to DC, not really knowing what is waiting for them at home. However, they were too tired to worry. When they landed, Tony went to get their suitcases while Ziva got them coffee and breakfast. On the way to the Navy Yard, they called McGee to let Vance know they were coming. It was weird to be a visitor in a place they both considered their home.

"This is an unfortunate situation," Vance started once they had entered his office. McGee was already there, looking even more tired than them. Tony sat next to him, but Ziva started to pace back and forth.

"This is ridiculous. There are hundreds of people who wanted Parsons dead," she said grimly.

"That is true; however, his last case was Gibbs. But Gibbs is now on a top secret mission, to which he was appointed by the SECNAV, therefore no one even thinks of suspecting him of killing Parsons. You helped to clear him, but now it's you who's in trouble."

"I'm okay with talking to the feds," McGee said. "I have nothing to hide."

"Good. Miss David, could you please sit down?" Vance asked her, because he started to feel uncomfortable with her walking around his office like a tiger in a cage. She sat down, opposite Tony, and it was obvious she was nervous.

"Parsons was shot at two in the morning the day after you resigned. It was a shot from a fairly close distance."

"I bet McGee's got solid alibi," Tony mumbled and smirked at Tim.

"How solid is your alibi, Miss David?" Vance turned to Ziva.

"I was at home."

"Was there anyone with you, who could confirm it?"

Tony stopped teasing Tim and looked at Ziva, suddenly paying attention, partly because he was curious to know if she was seeing anyone, partly because not having a solid alibi could mean more trouble for her.

"I was alone."

"DiNozzo?" Vance turned at Tony, who gave him a confused look.

"I wasn't with her," he shrugged.

"I meant what is _your_ alibi."

"Oh, that. Um, I was at home, watching movies, drinking beer, I guess."

"You guess? There are ten agents from numerous agencies waiting to interrogate you and make you confess, and you guess?"

"I didn't kill him, director. Close-range shots aren't my style."

"That doesn't matter. They want to find someone to blame for it and they've decided it will be one of you. Now if we work as a team and help each other, no harm has to be done either to you or the agency."

Ziva was unusually quiet. She was looking at a scratch on the table and she looked worried. Something was not right.

...

A few minutes later, two feds came in and took Tony, Ziva and Tim downstairs. While Ziva was put in the interrogation room, Tony and Tim were guarded in the back room, looking through the mirror.

"Why are you interrogating us here?" Ziva asked. "We don't work here anymore."

"I'm aware of that. We have our reasons. Tell me, Miss David, do you miss your job here at NCIS?"

"What do you think?"

"Answer my question, please."

"Yes, I do miss it."

"Is it true that Richard Parsons found some things about you that could ruin your career at NCIS?"

"All he had was a bunch of assumptions."

"But he managed to make you angry by bringing those assumptions up, didn't he?"

"He made me feel uncomfortable, but none of his hypotheses were true."

"Miss David, let me tell you why you're a suspect in this murder investigation. You resigned to save your boss from imprisonment, but Parsons was still after you and your friends. That's the motive. You are more than capable of operating the gun Richard Parsons was killed with, and you are a trained assassin. Also, not long after the murder, you left DC."

"I came back," she reminded him firmly.

"Where were you on the sixteenth of May between 1 and 2 am?"

"I was at home. Alone."

"So you have no one to confirm your alibi." It was more of a statement than a question. She saw it in his eyes; he had already decided she's quilty. "It doesn't look good for you."

"I did not kill him," she slightly raised her voice.

"Miss David, I've read and heard a lot about you, I know the past year hasn't been your best, you lost your father, and then you almost lost the only father figure you had left. Then there's the thing with Ilan Bodnar, and you leaving your job. I understand you were in a tough position, so I am willing to offer you a deal. Tell me the truth, did you kill Richard Parsons?"

"No, I did not."

"Do you have any information on who might have done it?"

"No, I do not."

"Miss David, we are both professionals, right? I am not going to intimidate you; I simply want to hear what you know. And I'm sure you know more than you're telling me."

"I did not kill Parsons."

"But you wanted him dead."

"Many people wanted him dead."

"Because he dug some dirt on them, is that correct?"

"He was blackmailing prominent people to get a promotion."

"And you couldn't watch him doing it. You couldn't let him arrest Gibbs and destroy everything you had left, am I right? So you took a gun and you went to his house. You did it for Gibbs, and for your friends. You did it, because you were trained to handle things like this."

She didn't say anything.

Tony was looking at her through the mirror and he began to feel nervous. Eight years ago, Ziva wouldn't think twice before putting a bullet in Parsons' head and she would probably get away with it, thanks to her training and the fact her father was the head of Mossad. But this was a different Ziva, an American citizen, a delicate woman, capable of being emotional. And right now, she was a broken woman, an orphan, and she was emotionally exhausted. Eight years ago, he would suspect her, but now, even though everything the detective said made sense, Tony didn't believe she had done it, not even for a second. However, the jury might believe it.

"I am going to ask you for the last time, Miss David. Did you kill Richard Parsons?"

"No."

"Then who did?" the detective was slowly losing his patience.

Suddenly, the door opened. "I did."

"Tony?" Ziva's jaw dropped when she saw him standing there, determined, without a sign of fear on his face, confessing to a murder.

* * *

**What you can expect in the next chapter:  
- angry Ziva,  
- Gibbs' reaction,  
- an unexpected guest.**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff and please, if you have any comments/suggestions/requests, let me know!**

**Have a beautiful day :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Soo, here's the new chapter! I'm so sorry for updating this late (damn exams), the next chapter should be up sooner.******Enjoy! ;)

* * *

Ziva was unable to say a word, or to make a move; she just sat there and watched Tony being put in handcuffs. It had to be some kind of a joke. This couldn't be happening for real.

When Tony was taken into custody, Ziva went straight to Vance's office. She let herself in, without even bothering to knock, and didn't wait for him to hang up on whoever he was on the phone with.

"How can you let them do this?"

Vance hung up and went to close the door she had left open. "I told you I want us to work as a team. DiNozzo didn't stick to the plan and confessed to the murder. What do you expect me to do?"

"I expect you to call someone and get it cleared up."

"What am I supposed to say?"

"That Tony is innocent."

"Would an innocent person confess?"

"You-you actually believe he would...you think he killed him?" she stammered.

"I don't, but they might, and they probably do, since he _confessed_."

"They can tamper with evidence! It has been done before. They will make it look like it was him, because they do not have anyone else to blame for it, and you know that!"

"I'm sorry, Miss David, but I'm afraid can't do anything right now."

"Well, I can," she said firmly, turned around and stormed out of the room, before he could respond.

Vance pounded the table with his fist. "Where the hell is Gibbs when I need him to make his children behave?" He pushed a button on the intercom. "Cynthia, get me SECNAV on the line."

...

It was the first time she visited the FBI headquarters, and she was hoping it was also the last time. Fornell was surprised to see her when he got to the reception.

"Can I see him?" she asked, when he opened his mouth to greet her.

"I shouldn't let you."

"You can sit there with me if you want."

He looked at the pizza box she was holding. "I hope you don't have a gun in there."

"No, but you know I do not need a gun to hurt someone."

"Right."

"He did not do it," she said shakily.

Tobias Fornell has always had a soft spot for beautiful women in despair, so there was only one thing he could do. "Okay, I'll take you to him, follow me."

Tony was locked up in a small cell, awaiting further interrogation. He was counting the cracks in the wall when the door opened.

"You have ten minutes," he heard Fornell say and then Ziva went in. Tony stood up from the bed and looked at the box in Ziva's hands.

"You brought me pizza? You're a treasure," he said and a broad smile appeared on his face.

She put the box on the table in the corner, made two steps towards Tony and slapped him so hard he almost fell on the bed.

"What were you thinking?" she blurted out.

He rubbed his cheek and gave her a confused look. "I wanted to help you."

"By confessing to a murder?"

"Yes," he said hesitantly and took a step back in case she wanted to slap him again.

"You are an idiot!"

"Maybe I am. Are you here to yell at me, or did you come here to ask me if I killed him?"

Ziva picked up the pizza box from the table and handed it to him. "Why would I ask when I already know the answer?" her voice was calmer. The slap helped.

Tony took the box and opened it. "Hmm, my favourite. So you think I don't have what it takes to kill somebody?"

"I think you are better than that. I just cannot understand why you would do such a stupid thing like confessing."

"I panicked," he shrugged, sat down on the bed and started eating.

"What do you mean, you panicked?"

"He was making you uncomfortable there."

"I can handle myself."

"We both know that you've been having problems with that lately."

"Are you telling me you burst into the interrogation room because you were scared I would hurt him?"

He took a bite and smiled. "No, I burst in there because he was hurting you."

"I had the situation fully under control. It should have been me sitting here," she looked around the shadowy cell.

"Okay, look, Ziva, maybe I didn't make myself clear the first fifty times I said it, so I'm gonna say it again," he put the piece of pizza down. "I will always have your back, no matter what. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"You are not my partner anymore."

"But I am still your friend. I am aware you can take care of yourself, but you just have to accept the fact I'm here, I'm in your life and I will fight for you. It might annoy you, but I don't care. That's what I do for the people I...care about. I'd take a bullet for them, and I'd confess to a murder I didn't commit to get them out of trouble. End of story."

She stood there in silence, watching him eating pizza, trying to collect her thoughts.

"Parsons has dug up some nasty things on you," Tony said suddenly. "If any of them got out, you'd be deprived of your citizenship and you would be prosecuted."

"_If_ any of them got out."

"Well, I'm not gonna risk anything. Now that I've confessed, they are focused on me and they will leave you alone."

"What is the next step in this brilliant plan of yours?"

"I didn't really have time to think it through properly, but I'm sure someone will save my ass eventually."

"How can you be so calm?"

"I slept for four hours, I'm eating pizza now, and _you_ came to visit me," he said teasingly and smirked at her.

Ziva suddenly felt the need to punch him again. She was worried sick, and he was making jokes.

_I burst in there because he was hurting you._

_I won't let anyone hurt you._

_I'm in your life and I will fight for you._

His previous words echoed in her mind and made her calm down. This was one of the moments she wanted to slap him and kiss him at the same time. But she did neither of those things, mainly because the door opened again.

"Your ten minutes are gone."

...

"What's going on, Leon? I'm about to have lunch with the Secretary of State. Make it quick."

"I have an ex-agent who confessed to a murder he didn't commit and an angry former Mossad officer who will probably kill somebody if I don't do something."

There was a second of silence. "Gibbs' team, of course. What do you want me to do?"

"I need Gibbs back. And I need to find Parsons' killer."

"I can get you the best lawyer I know. I also might be able to reach Gibbs on the phone, but how the hell am I supposed to find Parsons' killer?"

"I don't care who. We need to put somebody behind bars."

"You want me to arrest some random person just because people who used to work for you are in danger?"

"They are still my people and they are your people too. Besides, you owe me, Clayton. I need to find someone to blame before FBI charges DiNozzo."

"I'll see what I can do," Jarvis said and hung up.

...

"You have a phone call, DiNozzo."

Tony got up from the bed and yawned. So far, he felt quite fine in the FBI's custody.

"Let me guess, Ziva wants to apologize," Tony laughed and took the phone from Fornell.

"I thought I taught her not to apologize," the voice from the phone said. It was Gibbs and he was on speaker phone.

"Boss?"

"I've been away for two weeks and you're already facing murder charges?"

"That's just a misunderstanding, boss."

"Really? I heard you confessed."

"Would it help if I said I did it for the greater good?"

"It was a pretty dumb move."

"Are you calling to tell me off for it?"

"No. Fornell said you covered for Ziva. Is there anything I should know?"

"I wanted them to leave her alone. Look, she's been through hell lately, and they decided to go after her; I just wanted to help. I'd do it for anyone on the team, just like you would."

"Listen, DiNozzo, don't you say another word to those FBI douchebags. They will use everything against you, not to mention the things they will make up."

"Thanks, Jethro, I didn't know you think so highly of me," Fornell said with a sarcastic smirk.

"You're not trying to put my people behind bars, Tobias, there's a difference."

"Okay, boss, I won't tell them anything. So what's the plan?"

"The plan? I don't have one. I'm miles away and I have my own business to mind. But hell, you have a whole army of people who'll try to get you out of this. I just wanted to tell you to headslap yourself."

"Ziva already took care of that."

"Good girl. Hang in there, DiNozzo."

"Will do, boss. And, uhm, good luck with...whatever you're doing...wherever you are."

He handed the phone over to Fornell and sat down on the bed. Suddenly, he realized things were not so great as they'd seemed. This was not a game and it was definitely not a misunderstanding. He just hoped Gibbs was right and people out there were trying to get him out of it.

...

Well, they were. Vance was making phone calls all day; he didn't even go get lunch. McGee made an office from one of the interrogation rooms and together with Delilah they tried to access Parsons' documents that could be used against Tony. Ducky got the autopsy report, photos from the crime scene and some organic samples from his friend at the FBI. He passed the samples to Abby, who drank four big Caf-Pows in an hour so it was clear she wouldn't be sleeping for the next three days. Ziva, on the other hand, was so tired she fell asleep multiple times on the table while she was supposed to help Abby.

"I'm gonna get you a Caf-Pow," Abby offered her when she woke her again.

"Thank you, that will not be necessary, I am perfectly awake now."

"When was the last time you got a quality, eight-hour sleep?"

"Last week."

"Ziva, you're exhausted, go get some rest in the ballistic room, there's a mattress and-"

"I am fine, Abby. I will get some sleep when Tony is out of this."

"Okay. Can you pass me that green thingy over there?"

Ziva reached for a test tube with a hair sample in it and gave it to Abby. "So, what are we looking for again?"

"Anything that can prove Tony didn't kill Parsons. Whoever killed him left no trace, though, so it's gonna be tough. But I have never given up on forensic evidence and I'm not gonna start now."

"Can I do something?"

"We have to wait for the results."

"Ugh, I cannot bear to be idle. There must be something I can do to help."

"I know you're worried, Ziva, we all are, but it's Tony, he's gonna be fine," Abby hugged her. "Can't you just tell them you're his alibi? Like you were with him the night it happened?"

"I thought of that, too, but there is a camera outside my apartment, which shows I did not leave until six in the morning."

"So you're not a suspect anymore, that's great!" Abby smiled and gave her another hug.

"There is no camera outside _his_ apartment," Ziva sighed.

"That doesn't prove anything."

"It cannot prove his innocence, Abby."

"But we can, and we will."

"I am sorry Abby, I did not mean to whine, I am just-"

"Tired, I know."

"I am going to get a coffee. Do you want a Caf-Pow?"

Abby looked at the four empty cups on the table and nodded. "I'm gonna need it, thanks."

When Ziva got off the elevator on the first floor, she heard a familiar voice. There was a man at the reception, trying to explain something to the lady behind the desk.

"What do you mean he doesn't work here? Of course he does, he's the best damn agent you have here!"

"Mr. DiNozzo?"

The man turned around. "Ziva! Oh, thank God, this lady must be new here, she won't let me go upstairs to see Junior."

"I am afraid Tony is not here."

"Where is he, then? Oh, let me guess, he went to grab something to eat."

"Can we talk somewhere else?"

She took him outside the building, where they sat down on a bench.

"Tony is at the FBI right now. There has been a misunderstanding, but we are trying to clear it up."

"What kind of misunderstanding?"

Ziva bit her lip; she didn't feel like telling him.

"Ziva, please, I need to know what's going on."

"He is a suspect in a murder investigation."

"Oh my God, Junior is a murder suspect? But - but he didn't - he's going to be fine, isn't he?"

"We are doing everything we can to work things out. It is just a matter of time when they realize they have the wrong guy."

"Of course they have the wrong guy! I just don't understand why would the lady say he doesn't work here anymore?"

"Well, the thing is, he, um, we resigned. I am here only to help with this...thing."

"Wait, you resigned? Why?"

"There was a man who used our past failures against us in order to harm the agency. But that has already been taken care of. So, did you come to spend some time with Tony, or...?" she tried to change the subject.

"No, actually, I came to ask him if I could stay at his place for a few days. Part of my apartment's burnt down and they haven't finished with the renovations yet."

That wasn't really the change of subject she'd had in mind. "Burnt down? What happened?" she lowered her voice and looked at Senior with concern.

"I don't know, I was in Monte Carlo with a friend of mine, and when I came back, half of my apartment was in flames. Fortunately, I have great neighbours and they called 911 early enough so that the fire didn't destroy the whole place. I was quite lucky, you know, if I had arrived earlier, like I had planned, I would've been asleep in my bed when the fire started."

"Did the firemen tell you how the fire started?"

"Short circuit, I guess," Senior shrugged. "But I'm fine," he added when he noticed the worried look on her face.

Ziva David had been an investigator for too long to believe this was a coincidence. Plus, there was rule 39. Her gut was telling her it was an intentional attack. And then, suddenly, the pieces started to fit together.

_That's what I do for the people I...care about. I'd take a bullet for them, and I'd confess to a murder I didn't commit to get them out of trouble._

The game was still on.

Someone way worse than Parsons was going after the team and Tony seemed to be first on the list.

* * *

**What you can expect in the next chapter:**  
**- Tony's interrogation,**  
**- Ziva's tears,  
- a helping hand from an old...acquaintance****.**

**Thank you for reading, and as always, I'll be happy to know how you liked it, so go ahead and review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**First of all, thank you all for the reviews, I appreciate them very much :) Here's the 4th chapter, enjoy!**

* * *

"You know, Mr. DiNozzo, as much as I find your story intriguing, you don't seem to me as a killer."

"What can I say, I'm full of surprises."

"So I've been told. But a murder is not really your style."

"I probably shouldn't be talking to you until my lawyer gets here."

"You sent for a lawyer?"

"No, but I hope my people did."

"Your people. Who exactly is that?"

Tony laughed bitterly. "Oh come on, I'm sure you have photos of all of them in that little cute file of yours and you can't wait to flash them at me and ask awkward questions. So go ahead, get it over with, please."

The detective hesitated for a while, then smirked and took out a photo from the file. "I think we will only need this one," he said and put it on the table in front of Tony.

"Unlike me, you're not very good at surprises. Anyway, this picture is good, can I keep it when we're done here?"

The man across the table pointed his fingers at the photo. "Ziva David. Former Mossad officer, daughter of the late Eli David, ex-director of Mossad."

"Yeah, I know her. She's also a mean poker player."

"She became an American citizen two years ago."

"Yep, I missed the ceremony. Too bad, she must've been hot taking the Oath of Allegiance."

"However," the detective ignored Tony's remark. "She is still a highly skilled assassin."

"She used to be, but not anymore."

"I don't think so. She managed to kill Ilan Bodnar a month ago. And he was one of the best Mossad has trained."

"Bodnar tripped and fell over the board, I saw it."

"Of course. Anyway, I understand you are good friends with Miss David?"

"We worked on the same team for eight years. It's hard not to become friends."

"Maybe you've become more than friends?"

"Like best friends?"

"More like lovers."

"What exactly does this have to do with Parsons?"

"He went after her."

"He went after all of us."

"Exactly. Which brings me to this... Maybe he woke up the Mossad side of her by going after you."

"Hell, that guy woke up even my Mossad side and I've never had one."

"Maybe you're taking the blame for her. After all, we do that for the people we love," the detective continued.

"There's just one minor detail. She didn't do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't you have the security tapes from her apartment?"

"Oh, I'm sure someone as skilled as Miss David can manage to avoid cameras."

"You really don't believe I did it, do you?"

"No. I believe you are covering for Ziva."

"Why would I confess to a murder I didn't commit and risk a prison sentence?"

"For the same reason you jeopardized your career four years ago and risked your life by going to hunt down Saleem Ulman; because you love her."

"I did that because that's what teammates do. I went there to save her and kill Saleem."

"Wrong. You went against orders to be taken captive."

"So that we could kill Saleem Ulman."

"You didn't go there to save her, though, did you? Because you thought she was dead. You went there to avenge her death."

"You're forgetting we killed the bad guy."

"This is not about your achievements, Mr. DiNozzo, this is about your weaknesses. And from what I see, Ziva David is your biggest weakness."

"What exactly do you want from me?" Tony leaned across the table, looking at the detective, with a playful smile on his face.

"I want you to stop lying and making jokes. Tell me the truth and this will all be over."

The smile disappeared from Tony's face. He leaned even closer to him.

"You want the truth? Ziva David has nothing to do with this murder. You want to punish someone? Fine, punish me. But you should know I will fight for my people until my dying breath, and even if I die, I will haunt you."

"Are you threatening me?"

"You're a lousy detective if you have to ask."

The door opened. "Sir, I'm afraid we have to let him go."

"He confessed. Why should I let him go?"

"Because I said so," another man appeared in the door. He had a British accent and an eye patch. "Let's go, DiNozzo."

"This is a suspect in a murder investigation," the detective reminded him.

" The CIA takes full responsibility for the death of Richard Parsons. He was a threat to national security and we got an order to handle him. Mr. DiNozzo has nothing to do with it, nor does anyone from NCIS."

The detective gave Tony a wry grin. "Your people, huh?"

"I was expecting many things, but this is not one of them. Trust me, I'm as surprised as you are."

"It's not causing me much pain to let you go, Mr. DiNozzo."

"Because I'm annoying?"

"Because you're not guilty," the detective said and put Ziva's photo back in the file. "I admire your loyalty towards your people, but you should be more careful. You might not get this lucky next time."

"Let's just hope there won't be a next time." Tony stood up and walked out of the interrogation room.

"So, who sent you?" he asked Kort when they were leaving FBI in a shiny black sedan.

"The SECNAV implied your team might be in trouble."

"And you rushed to save my ass? That doesn't sound like you. Unless the CIA really is behind Parsons' death."

"That's classified. I came to get you out of this because I promised Jenny Shepard to keep an eye on Gibbs' team."

"So you're like our guardian angel?"

"I owe her."

"For La Grenouille? Or for her father?"

Kort laughed shortly. It was not a pretty laugh. "You are not very good at showing gratitude."

"Oh I am grateful you got me out of there, but I expect some answers."

"Richard Parsons was indeed a threat to national security. He had sensitive information about important people and classified operations of several agencies, including the CIA."

"How did he get them?"

"By blackmailing the right people, mainly."

The car stopped. "I need to know the truth," Tony said while opening the door. "Did your agency take care of him?"

"No."

He stepped out of the car. "Do you know who did?"

"No."

"Then it's not over yet."

"Leave it alone, DiNozzo, we'll make sure your people won't get hurt. Let us take care of it. Don't forget you are no longer an agent." The door closed and the car disappeared around the corner.

Tony looked around to see where he was and he realized they dropped him off in front of the bar they used to go to after work.

"Tony!" he heard Abby shout out when he came in. Next thing he knew, she was squeezing him in her arms, talking so fast he could barely understand her.

"I'm fine, Abby, it's okay, you can let go. No, seriously, Abby, I can't breathe," he wheezed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she let go of him, took his hand and brought him to the table at the end of the bar. There were Tim and Delilah, both with their computers and broad smiles on their faces, and Tony's father, who sighed in relief when he saw his son and stood up.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" Tony asked him, when his father gave him a quick, firm hug.

"I was in town to meet a friend. Can I get you a drink? My treat," he smiled at him.

"Wait. You wanna buy me a drink? Dad, what's going on? What are you doing in DC? Oh please, don't tell me you're in trouble again."

"Says the man who spent the last few days at the FBI, trying to convince the feds he murdered someone."

"Trouble runs in the family, I get it. Now tell me why you're here."

"I just came to say hi. Can't a father check up on his son from time to time?"

"Do you need money?"

"No."

"We'll talk later," Tony frowned, still not convinced his father would come to town with no particular reason. "Where's Ziva?" he looked around.

"We don't know," Abby shrugged. "She got a message, said she needed to be alone for a while and stormed out of here."

"What kind of message? Have you tracked her phone?"

"She turned it off," Tim informed him. "But we were able to get the message. I'm still trying to find out who send it," he turned his notebook to Tony. It said: "Letting someone else take the responsibility doesn't wash the blood off our hands. I'm sure Ari would agree."

He read it several times and then snapped his fingers. "I think I might know where she is. You all should go to NCIS, that's probably the safest place now. Tim, find me who sent the message and let me know. Dad, behave, Abbs will take care of you. I'm gonna go find Ziva," he took the last look at the message and left the bar.

...

Ziva was in Gibbs' basement, standing by the stairs, with a painful frown and a pensive look on her face. She was staring at the floor, so focused on her thoughts she didn't even notice someone was coming down the stairs.

"I thought Gibbs was kidding about the key under a rock," she heard Tony's voice.

"How did you know where to find me?"

"I took a wild guess."

She let him come downstairs before she spoke again.

"How long have you known the truth about Ari?"

Tony made three steps so that he was standing behind her. "For a while."

"Gibbs?"

"No, I put two and two together."

"I am sorry I did not tell you."

"I get it. It was way too personal for you to tell me."

She was still hypnotizing the floor.

"It has been eight years and I still see him in my dreams lying here with a hole in his head," she said quietly with a broken voice. "I thought the pain would go away, because I did what was necessary, but it is still there. I am a horrible person."

He took her hand in his. "No, you're not. You did what you had to. That doesn't make you horrible, it makes you strong."

"I think there are too many demons in my past to start fresh," she said out loud what she's been only thinking for the past years.

"You need to let it go, Ziva. There's no future in living in the past."

"How? How can I let it go when it all keeps coming back?"

"Face your demons. You know, we need to reconcile ourselves to the fact that our actions sometimes hurt people, even the ones we love. But we need to let that pain go," he explained, caressing her hand. "It won't bring you peace pondering over what you've done for the rest of your life."

"There is too much pain to just let it go."

"It won't go away all at once. You need to put it behind you. Don't let it ruin you, let it strengthen you. I might not be as experienced in that department, but look at Gibbs, he's trying every single day. Some wounds heal faster than others, and some of them never heal completely. You just need to find a meaning in your life, surround yourself with people who make you feel like a better person."

She wiped off the tears that were coursing down her cheeks, turned to him and let him put his arms around her. Tony started stroking her hair and back, while she was sobbing quietly, with her head pressed to his chest.

They stood there like this for a while, when she pulled back and sighed. "I am so sorry for this."

Tony smiled. "Don't be. You needed to get it out," he stroked away the last tear from her cheek.

"I feel relieved," she admitted.

"Good. Let's get you home, you look like you haven't slept for days. If you like bedtime stories, I have some tales from the FBI that I'll be happy to share with you."

A lovely slight smile appeared on her face. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"Tony... Um, I know your father is in town, but do you think you could...stay with me for a while? I do not feel like being alone now."

His eyes lit up. "It'll be my pleasure to keep you company. Besides, my dad's in good hands. He's busy playing cards with Abby and telling her his famous made-up stories." He put his arm around her waist as they were going up the stairs. "I could cook you something if you wanted."

"Since when do you cook?"

"I don't, but I could try, while you get some sleep."

"Honestly, I do not think I will be able to sleep, knowing you might set my kitchen on fire."

"Oh come on, I'm not _that_ bad."

"I would rather not risk it."

He laughed and poked her arm playfully. "Would you like to drive?"

* * *

**So, since my exams are keeping me very busy, I am not sure when the next chapter will be up. Anyway, I'll try to update as soon as possible - motivate me with reviews/thoughts/suggestions, please! :) Thank you and have a beautiful day!**

**And, as usual, here's what you can expect in the next chapter:  
- Tony cooking for Ziva,  
- Tony taking his pants off,  
- awkward moment,  
- the man who's after the team.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, so first of all, I'm terribly sorry to be updating so late, but I really had a lot of stuff to deal with (exams, some family problems,...). To make it up to my wonderful readers, I made this chapter a bit longer. The next chapter should be up soon. Enjoy and thank you for your patience :)**

* * *

When they arrived at her apartment, Tony didn't even have to force her to go to bed. She thanked him for staying, took a quick shower, left him a clean towel in the bathroom, so he could take a shower as well, and before he could ask if she wanted anything to eat, she had fallen asleep. He stood by the door, looking at her. Her face seemed peaceful and her body relaxed.

A former Mossad killer and now also a former NCIS agent.

Tough girl with a rough past and an uncertain future.

She might have been all that, but right there in that moment, she was just Ziva. _His_ Ziva.

When Tony finally managed to take his eyes off her, he decided to look around the apartment. It was very spacious and cosy, with big windows and a beautiful view over the city. As the sun was going down, everything in the living room was covered in orange and red light. Tony turned on the TV, put it on mute, and tried to ignore his brain, which ordered him to...well, basically, to go through her stuff. Any other time, he would have already poked his nose into every drawer and shelf, but this time, it suddenly seemed rude. So instead of creeping into her privacy, he decided to take a shower and then cook something.

Her kitchen was well equipped and it was obvious at the first sight she spent a lot of time there. There was a shelf with at least fifteen cookbooks, some of them in Hebrew, Italian, Spanish and Arabic. He took out one that was in English and opened it. There were notes next to some recipes, and one of them caught his eye in particular. It said "Tony loves this, but do not put olives in it." He smiled and read the recipe. Yes, she cooked that for him several times and it was delicious.

Even though he wouldn't admit it at the time, he wanted to impress Ziva so badly, he chose to cook something from the Italian cookbook. That wouldn't pose a problem (since Google Translator exists) for someone...who could cook, which he couldn't. But Tony DiNozzo loved challenges and he was stubborn, so he put an apron on and got started.

...

Ziva slept for three hours, and she would have slept more, if a delicious smell coming from the kitchen hadn't woken her up. She hadn't had a decent meal in days so she didn't really care what he had made, as long as it was edible. She got up from the bed and went to wash her face with cold water.

"Did you sleep well?" she heard his voice coming from the bedroom.

"Yes, I did," she replied, brushed her hair and went out of the bathroom. "So, you have managed not to burn my apartment down, thank you," she smiled teasingly.

"Yeaah, about that... You probably shouldn't go to the kitchen until I clean it up."

"What happened?"

He shrugged and gave her an innocent look. "It got a bit messy."

The famous DiNozzo's puppy look. How could she be mad at him?

"Well, at least you still have all your fingers."

"I do, though I burnt myself. Twice. Anyway, let me show you the outcome of my hard work," he led her to the living room.

She noticed he had put a tablecloth on the coffee table, arranged serviettes and the cutlery there so it looked like a fancy restaurant table, and he'd even lit up a candle.

"Prego," he showed her to the couch. She sat down, while he rushed to the kitchen and when he came back, he was holding two plates. He put one in front of her. "Lasagne vegetariane," he said proudly. "Um, there wasn't any meat. But buon appetito, anyway!" he added.

"It looks delicious," she smiled at the pile of something on her plate.

"It looks like something I wouldn't let even McGee eat, but it tastes good."

It really did. Or maybe she was too hungry to be picky. Either way, twenty minutes later, her plate was empty.

"Okay, now I have prepared something special," Tony smiled mysteriously when he was coming back from the kitchen. "I noticed you put a bookmark on that page, so you probably were gonna make it, because you had all the stuff for it... So, here it is, Tiramisú casalingo. Non é cosí buono come dovrebbe essere, peró é fatto con l'amore." He put the desert in front of her and hoped he hadn't made any mistakes in the sentence. _Thank God I hadn't decided for something from the Arabian cookbook_, he thought.

"If I did not know you so well, I would say you are trying to impress me," she smiled.

Tony chuckled. "What? No way. I just thought you might fancy something special since the last few days have been tough."

"You are indeed an amazing friend," she stroked his cheek and then tasted the dessert. "Whoa, this is the best Tiramisú I have ever had."

"Are you serious?"

"It is perfect," she nodded. "Is there more?"

"Yeah, plenty more," Tony laughed in relief. "I should go clean up the kitchen," he said after a while, because he felt a bit creepy watching her eat.

"I thought you prepared some kind of entertainment for me."

"Um, sure, I did, I-" he looked around. "We could watch a movie. I'm in a mood for Bond. "

"Have you not had enough action in the last few days? "

"Good point. How about a card game?" he suggested.

"Okay, why not. I know a few games that I learned when I was on a mission in central Europe, they are a bit complicated, but-"

"I'm just a simple American dude, who hasn't slept well in the past week, please bear that in mind. You know what? I'm gonna teach you an American classic that we used to play in Baltimore."

"Fine, but I should warn you I am damn good at playing cards," she smirked at him and got up to get the cards.

"I was a champion three years in a row, baby," he smirked back at her and took the cards from her hand to shuffle them. "Damn, I don't have much cash," he realized suddenly.

"We can play for something else."

"Like what? Cleaning up the kitchen?"

"No. You made the mess; you are going to clean it. How about clothes?"

"You should've told it sooner you wanted to play strip poker."

"I do not like poker."

"Okay, if you dare to play for your clothes, I'm fine with that."

"Yeah, because you love stripping at any occasion."

He stopped shuffling the cards and gave her a suspicious look. "I know what's going on here. You liked what you saw in the beach house and you want to see it again, don't you?"

"The only thing I want to see is your face when I beat you. I can assure you I have no interest in seeing you without your clothes on."

"Don't worry, you won't. But I am very much looking forward to seeing you taking your clothes off while coping with the fact that I've beaten you."

"Bring it on, DiNozzo."

He explained her the rules and they played a few games just to see if she got it. Well, she did. It turned out Ziva David was a very good and strategic card player and she could anticipate her opponent's moves.

"Does Mossad train his agents in this, too?" he laughed nervously, when they started playing for real.

"No, but Mossad training is useful in many everyday situations," she winked and took another card from the packet on the table.

She won the first two games, and Tony had to take his socks off. He got good cards in the third game, though, and he regained his self-confidence. He won another two games, and then he started to lose his concentration. Ziva, who had taken off her socks and the cardigan, used that to her benefit and beat him.

"Pants down, DiNozzo," she grinned at him, as she was shuffling the cards.

"You know, that would actually sound pretty hot under different circumstances," he raised right eyebrow and took his pants off, trying to come up with a new strategy in his mind. He did, eventually, and he tried his best not to get distracted by Ziva's T-shirt with a low neckline . However, no matter how hard he tried, she managed to beat him again. He unbuttoned his shirt, getting really scared of totally embarrassing himself, when the ranging doorbell saved him from starting a new game.

"I'll get it, that must be the pizza guy."

"You ordered pizza?"

"Yeah, I told him to come around nine... In case you didn't like my lasagne."

"But I liked them."

"And that made me happy as a hippo," he smiled at her, reached for his pants and took out the wallet.

"Tony, your pants," she reminded him.

"Nah, I'm not ashamed of my legs. Besides, we're not finished," he pointed at the cards and smirked, with newly gained self-confidence. Pizza will help. Pizza always helps. "Don't you dare go peeking at my cards, David!" he shouted from the hallway. "I'm so going to beat you," he added in a whisper, as he was opening the door. "Or not... Boss?!"

It turned out it wasn't the pizza guy. It was Gibbs, and he wasn't alone. Besides him, there was Kort, Fornell and Tim.

Tony panicked and started buttoning his shirt. "We were - we were playing a card game, and I-I was-"

"Losing," Gibbs finished the sentence for him and Tony could have sworn there was a slight smirk on his face.

"Yes, she kinda kicked my ass. Figuratively speaking, of course. Nothing inappropriate is happening here."

"Can we come in?" Fornell asked.

"Sure, come in. I'm gonna..."

"Get your pants," Gibbs once again finished the sentence for him.

"Yes."

"This should be fun," Kort grinned.

"We'll see. And by we I mean you and by see I mean you won't because I will deprive you of your other eye."

"You seem to be forgetting I saved your ass earlier today."

"I'm well aware of that, but it doesn't mean I started liking you. I didn't."

"Don't worry, I don't like you either," Kort gave him a wry grin and went to the living room.

Ziva, all blushing, put the cards away and tried to concentrate on what the guests had to say. It was getting very annoying; each time she had a good time with Tony, something had to come up and ruin it. It was like the universe didn't like them together.

"First things first. We're gonna need coffee. Which way is the kitchen?" Fornell asked and looked at Ziva.

Tony answered him first. "Um, I wouldn't recommend you going there... Danger zone," he smiled innocently. "I'll go make the coffee myself."

When he got back, they all were looking at Tim's laptop, while Kort was explaining something.

"So, to what do we owe the pleasure?" Tony asked, looking at Kort. "I mean, when you dropped me off downtown you didn't seem like you wanted to meet later."

"I didn't, trust me. But there are some things I assumed you would like to know."

"What things?"

"Parsons had his personal spy in the CIA," Gibbs informed him. "That's how he was getting information about prominent people."

"Someone was supplying him with dirt so that he could blackmail people... Why would anyone do it for him? I mean, it's not like he could afford to pay them."

"Maybe he had something on the informer as well," Ziva shrugged.

"What's Fornell doing here?" Tony frowned when he fully realized Fornell's presence. Until then, his mind was still too busy thinking about Ziva's neckline.

"I'm a lucky charm," Tobias mumbled while sipping his coffee.

"FBI still needs the guy who killed Parsons," Gibbs explained.

"It might have been the informer," Ziva said. "If you think about it, Parsons had a very strong sense of justice; he despised people who were breaking the law. Maybe, he thought he was doing the right thing using the dirt he got from his informer as leverage. But then he found out that whoever was delivering him the information was as bad as the people he was after. He wanted to expose him and he got killed."

"Or he was just a hypocritical bastard who wanted to climb to the top of the bureaucratic ladder and got in somebody's way," Tony offered his explanation.

"I think the question we should be asking is why he would target your team," Fornell said. "He had a lot of dirt on other people that would make better and easier score. We think he was working for somebody who ordered him which people specifically to take down."

"There must be someone else. Very probably someone in charge," Kort said with a calm face as he was looking around the living room.

"Or the informer is in charge," Tony suggested.

"That's not likely, Parsons was in contact with two different people," Tim said.

"So we are looking for someone who has access to sensitive CIA information and then for someone..."

"Who has enough money to pay both Parsons and the informer," Gibbs finished both the sentence and his coffee.

"Any ideas on who it might be?" Tony asked.

Tim nodded. "That's why we're here."

"The informer must be someone with a very high level of clearance at the CIA," Gibbs said and a tired, worried frown appeared on his face as he looked at Ziva. "When was the last time you heard from Ray?"

"What? You think - but he is - he was in prison, wasn't he?"

"Someone paid a lot of money to get him out half a year ago," Kort said. "The agency has been looking for him since then."

"Any sign of him?" Tony asked.

"Nothing. However, we believe he is in DC, given it was probably him who killed Parsons."

"How are we going to find him?" Ziva glanced at Tim.

"Wasn't there something in the emails he sent you?" Gibbs turned to her. "A phone number, an address, anything that could be useful?"

"No, there was nothing of that kind."

"I thought you said you had ignored his emails," Tony frowned.

"Exactly, ignored, but that doesn't mean I hadn't read them."

"It implies it."

"Enough, you two. Ziva, can I go through those emails? I'm not saying you overlooked something, it's just...to be thorough," Tim looked at her. She gave him the permission with a short nod.

"Is anyone hungry? I made lasagne earlier," Tony said, trying to break the tension at least a bit.

"You cooked?" Tim stopped working on the computer and gave him a surprised look.

" Yes, I did, do you wanna try it?"

"No, thanks. From what I've experienced, you're a horrible cook. I don't even want to see what happened to the kitchen."

"Ziva liked it. The food, I mean, she hasn't seen the kitchen yet. Anyway, you know she's super honest so she would say if it wasn't good. Right Ziva?" he turned to her, but she didn't seem to be listening to him. "Ziva?"

"Hmm?" she looked up at him. "What?"

"You okay?"

"Yes, I am. Did you find anything, Tim?"

"Not yet, it's gonna take a few minutes until the program goes through your e-mails."

"What if we don't find him?" Tony looked at Gibbs, hoping he would have some kind of a plan. Gibbs always had a plan, right?

There was a moment of silence.

"Do you think the plan is still on, even though Parsons is dead?" Tony spoke again, still looking at his former boss.

"It might be."

"Okay, so there's nothing in the emails, plus the address doesn't exist anymore," Tim told them with disappointment. "What are we gonna do now?"

"I need you to stay with Abby. DiNozzo, you take care of your dad."

"What can I do?" Ziva enquired.

"You can stay here and keep an eye on yourself. Let us take care of it."

"Gibbs, you know I cannot do that."

"You have to. I don't want you to get involved in this."

"But Gibbs-" she was ready to argue with him, but his phone started ringing and interrupted her.

"Abby has some news about Parsons's murder," Gibbs told them when he hung up. "Let's go," he got up from the couch. "Keep your phones on," he glanced at Ziva and Tony and then along with Tim, Kort and Fornell left the apartment.

"I should probably go get my dad," Tony said after another silent moment. "I can totally swing by later, if you want."

"I am fine, take care of your father, that is most important right now. I will try to think of other ways to contact Ray."

"I could come and help you. Plus, I need to clean up the kitchen."

"Do not worry about that, Tony, really, just make sure your father is safe. I will call you if I find something."

"Okay," he nodded, realizing he has just lost another game that evening. "I'm gonna go."

It wasn't easy to let him go, but she needed a moment to get her act together. There wasn't much to get energy from (thank God for the Tiramisú leftovers), but she was used to being under pressure; it was basically her lifestyle ten years ago. She felt somewhat responsible for all that has happened; after all, it was her who brought Ray to NCIS, who introduced him to the team. And it was her who made him really angry by charging him with murder.

Ziva spent most of the evening going through the letters and emails he wrote her, and then tried to call all his numbers she had, with no particular plan in her head. She cried when reading his touching declarations of love, and then some more when she realized how much she missed being loved and adored. Eventually, she fell asleep, from all the crying and blaming herself, but some strange noises coming from the kitchen woke her up an hour later. She got up, didn't bother to turn on the lights and went to the living room.

"I told you not to worry about the mess," she said, expecting to find Tony in the kitchen. But there wasn't anyone.

"I think we all should clean up the mess we have made." The voice came from the hall and it definitely wasn't Tony's. Suddenly, the lights in the living room turned on. "Hello, Ziva."

"Ray," she said shakily and made a step back. "What do you want?"

"I want you to hear me out."

"I do not want to hear anything from you."

"Then shoot me," he opened one of the drawers and took out her gun.

"You have to pay for what you have done. I am not making this easier for you." Of course she wanted to shoot him, but firstly, she wasn't an agent anymore, so she could get in trouble, and secondly, she really wanted him to rot in prison. There was only one reasonable thing to do, so Ziva slowly reached in her pocket for the phone.

"I wouldn't do that," he aimed the gun at her.

She took the phone out, turned it off and put it on the table.

"Good, now let's talk."

* * *

**And as always, here's what you can expect in the next chapter:**

**- someone's gonna shoot at Ray (who and will he/she succeed? ... we'll see),**  
**- Ziva makes a decision that will affect her relationship with Tony,**  
**- someone's gonna hang out and get really drunk with somebody we wouldn't expect him/her to spend time with.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, here's the new chapter, I hope you like it! Oh and thanks for all your lovely reviews and messages, you're amazing, guys! :)**

* * *

"I'm sure you're surprised to see me so soon after you discovered who's behind all this."

Ziva didn't say anything, so Ray continued.

"Let's say I know about the session you guys had here in the evening. Nearly the whole alphabet was here, right? NCIS, FBI, CIA... Amazing how agencies can cooperate. Too bad they interrupted that lovely card game you were playing with Tony. I'm sure you would've won, though that's not really what you had in mind, is it?"

"You were watching us, I get it."

"Yes, and when I learnt you knew about me, I didn't want to wait so I decided to pay you a visit."

"You are going back to prison, you know that?"

"Sure," he smiled. "But it doesn't really bother me. See, some of my friends are very powerful, and I am too valuable for them to let me rot in prison."

"When did this happen? You used to be such a good guy."

"Oh come on, Ziva, let's not get nostalgic. I've always been a bit crooked and you know it, you just didn't want to see it. But that's what we had in common."

"We had many things in common, but I do not think being crooked was one of them."

He nodded, with a wry grin, reached under his coat and took out a big yellow envelope. "Consider it a present."

Ziva looked at the gun he was still pointing at her, grabbed the envelope and looked inside; there was a file, a pretty thick one. She took it out and opened it.

"What is this?"

"This is all CIA has on you. Every single thing that has happened in your life is in this file. Your childhood, your first love, your career in Mossad and NCIS. There are the names of the people you have killed as well as the names of the people you have saved."

"Why are you giving this to me?" she asked, not really surprised the CIA had a file like this on her.

"Because you need to realize something, Ziva," he lowered the gun. "You judge me for the things I've done for my job, for my country, but in comparison with you, I'm a saint. My file has fifteen pages, yours has fifty."

"I am nothing like you," she refused and pushed the file aside.

"Really? Haven't you been trained to kill people without feeling any remorse?"

"You do not feel any remorse even if you kill someone innocent."

"Yes, that's the part of the job and to do my job well, I need to put emotions aside. But you know that, Ziva. Or do you want me to read you something from the file? About all the innocent people, whole families, even kids, who died in Mossad's secret missions that you were a part of?"

"I pray for them every night."

"And that makes you a better person than me, because you pray for the innocents you killed?"

"I helped more people than I had killed and I will continue helping them until my dying breath. You, you just destroy things and hurt people, who fight for justice and try to make you take responsibility for your actions. You are a coward."

"So you are the hero? You're not even an agent anymore. And speaking about hurting others... Do you know how many people got killed and hurt in your pursuit for Bodnar? You put in danger your whole precious team."

"What exactly is the point of this? Should I get mad, fight with you, shoot you, or should I cry and beg you to come back to my life because you are the only one who can fully understand all my complex feelings?"

"I sense sarcasm... You have probably spent too much time with Tony. Tell me something, Ziva. Does _he_ know about what's on those fifty pages?"

Ziva glanced at the file.

"Of course he doesn't. Because he might not feel the same way for you if he knew."

"Tony knows enough to make an opinion on me. If you want to make me feel guilty about not telling him everything about my past, you will not succeed."

"I'm not here to be your conscience. I just wanted you to go through this file, look me in the eye and try to tell me we're so different. If you condemn me, you have to condemn yourself as well, dear Ziva."

She glimpsed at his watch. How much longer was this going to take? "Why did you kill Parsons?"

"He got in the way. You know, he got excited about going after the daughter of Mossad's ex-director who was also a great friend of Leon Vance. But I couldn't let him do that, obviously. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you."

"Why did you try to kill Tony's father then?"

"I never wanted to kill him. But your team needed something stronger than a headslap for messing with the wrong people. Plus, I don't like Tony, I never have," he shrugged.

"Well, he never liked you either," Ziva retorted; she really had had enough.

"But you did. You even considered marrying me."

"I guess I did not know what kind of a person you truly were."

"I'm just like you, Ziva. That's why you wouldn't be happy in a relationship with Tony. It simply wouldn't work."

"Let me guess, he is not good enough for me?"

Ray shook his head. "Actually, _you_ are not good enough for _him_. Tony deserves some simple-minded girl who would adore him and all his childish jokes. You are a woman with a difficult past; you need someone who carries as heavy burden as yours."

"Someone like you?" she chuckled ironically.

"Maybe."

"You know, there indeed is a difference between you and Tony," she nodded. "Unlike you, Tony truly cares about others. You," she looked at him, almost with disgust, "you have always cared primarily about yourself, not paying attention to the feelings or wants of others."

"Right, Tony is the knight in shining armour, the one who always comes to help."

"You are half the man he is."

That made Ray a bit angry, of course. She could call him names, or judge him for his actions, but comparing him with Tony, making him worse or less man than Tony, that really hurt his ego. He pointed the gun at her again and closed the file. "You didn't get anything I told you."

Suddenly they heard some noise from the hall. "NCIS, don't move!" Tony shouted as he slowly walked in the living room. "Drop the gun!"

"You're not NCIS," Ray reminded him.

"I'm not, but that won't stop me from shooting you."

"You think I'm scared of you?"

"No, but you might be scared of your CIA buddies in the building across the street. Guess who's giving them orders, Ray. Yes, it's your dear friend Trent Kort. You know, I don't like that guy, but he wants to get you so badly I'm thinking of joining his fanclub. You okay, Ziva?"

"Yes, I am fine, Tony."

"Good, then step aside in case this asshole tries something and we'll have to shoot him; you wouldn't want to get blood on that lovely cardigan."

"NCIS! FBI!" they heard from the hall.

It was Gibbs and Fornell, both aiming their guns at Ray who got up from the couch.

"Hey, boss, I'm glad you're here. You can take him," Tony lowered his gun and watched Gibbs and Fornell handcuff Ray. In the meantime, Ziva took the file from the table and put it away.

"Good idea, turning off your phone," Tony turned to her. "McGee called me the minute he lost your signal."

She looked at the couch where Ray was sitting a few seconds ago. "I could've just killed him somehow, but I don't want any more blood on my hands. He deserves to spend the rest of his life in jail," she explained.

"I know. I'm so relieved you're okay."

"He didn't come here to hurt me...physically," she finally looked at him.

"I'll make sure they hurt him every possible way in prison, don't worry. Anyway, that moron broke your lock when he was picking it, so you can spend the night, or the rest of it, at my place. That is if you want, of course."

"I am just fine here, but thank you. Besides, I will need to give my statement."

"You can do that in the morning."

"I would like to get it over with as soon as possible."

"Okay, in that case I'll tell someone to watch your apartment. Can I at least drive you?"

"That would be nice, thank you," she smiled slightly at him. Ray was right at one thing after all; Tony was her knight in shining armour who always came to help her.

...

After she and Tony gave their statements at the FBI, they went to NCIS, because Vance wanted to talk to them. The sun was slowly going up, and it was quiet everywhere. They stopped for a minute in their old bullpen, to nostalgically remember not so distant good times, and then went straight to Vance's office. It was obvious he spent the night there, making calls to the CIA and FBI. There were four cups of coffee on his table, and an empty pizza box.

"You have no idea how happy I am I can go home. None of my people is a murder suspect, and apparently, the director of the CIA owes me a favour. I would like to thank you for helping with this case."

"You mean you would like to thank us for not killing Ray Cruz," Tony smiled just like a child eagerly awaiting a compliment from his parents.

"That, too. I am sure you cannot wait to go home and get some sleep, however, I would like to give you something before you do so," he opened one of the drawers in his desk and too out two badges. "It is safe for you and the team to come back now," he put the badges in front of Tony and Ziva. "Agent McGee is back on duty as well, or will be, as soon as he signs the contract."

"Can I take a few weeks to think about it?" Ziva said suddenly.

"Of course."

"I need some time to pull myself together before I start working," she explained.

"I promise this badge will wait here until you are ready to wear it again," Vance nodded.

"Thank you, director."

Tony was unable to make a sound, partly because he was really tired, and partly because he didn't expect that at all. Ziva loved being an NCIS agent; work has always helped her in the healing process.

"DiNozzo?" Vance was looking at him.

"I am honoured to be a special agent again," he took his badge and felt a familiar warmth at heart when he held it in his hand.

"Good. Your contract will be ready on Monday, then. Unless, of course, you want to take a few days off."

"No need, director. I'm ready to get back in action."

"I'm glad to hear that. Now go, get some rest, both of you. I need to go home as well, I barely remember how my kids look like," Vance laughed.

...

When the two left his office, Tony turned to Ziva. "What was that? Ten minutes ago, you were harking back to how things used to be and now you say you need time?"

"I _do_ need time, Tony. There is something I need to do, some place I need to go, and there is a lot I need to think about before joining the team again."

"Is it because of something Ray said? Because that man is crazy and you shouldn't take seriously anything he told you."

"It is not because of Ray."

"You promised me you would stay."

"I know, and I am sorry, but certain things that happened reminded me of something. I need to spend some time alone, away from all this."

"Away from me?"

"I will come back."

"I'm not sure if I should believe you," he made a step back from her. "Something might happen tomorrow and change your mind."

She got closer to him and took his face in her hands. "I will come back. Please, give me the time I need to figure things out and do not resent my decision. I am not leaving you, or the team for good," she almost whispered and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. And then, she left. Tony went down the stairs, with a disappointed expression on his face, to sit at his desk for a while, expecting it would make him feel better, but the warmth that had filled his heart when he took his badge back was gone.

...

He left the building when people started to come to work. It was six in the morning and even though his brain and body wanted to go home, watch a few good movies, order some food and then sleep until midnight, he drove somewhere else. After all, his father wouldn't probably let him watch movies and eat take out without commenting on it annoyingly.

"Whiskey, double," he ordered at the bar and sat on the bar stool.

"Breakfast of champions?" he heard someone laugh bitterly behind his back.

"I'm not in the mood for you."

Kort sat next to him and ordered a drink as well. "I just wanted to thank you in the name of my agency."

"Your agency can kiss my ass." After all, the CIA has never brought him anything good. He had every right to detest them.

"You seem strained. But why? You got your job back, you helped to get another lunatic behind bars..."

"Yeah, a happy day indeed," Tony drank his whiskey and ordered another one.

"You should go on vacation, somewhere nice."

Tony looked at the one-eyed man and once again felt the urge to punch him. "Just go away, Kort."

"Why the hard feelings?"

"You blew up my car."

"That was six years ago."

"I really liked that car."

Kort smirked and watched Tony order another drink.

"You lied to us repeatedly and caused more trouble than you fixed."

"I also saved your ass a few times and helped you get the Port-to-Port killer. Not to mention I lost an eye when I was saving a marine."

"Your accent is giving me a headache."

"That's the whiskey."

Tony drank his glass and realized he hasn't eaten anything in quite a long time. That was not good.

"So why are you getting drunk at a bar?" Trent asked him.

"Because I can. And it would be great if I could keep getting drunk without you bothering me."

"Okay, I'm going to guess. Ziva?"

Tony put his glass down and looked at the guy next to him. "I am not talking to you." His voice was starting to shake funnily.

"I have noticed there is a special...bond between the two of you. She's a pretty special girl."

"We have no bond." It almost sounded like he was complaining.

"Really? Hmm, and I thought I was the almost blind one."

"She ran away. But you know what, I'm not gonna look for her, I'm not gonna chase her anymore. Whenever I make a step forward she makes ten steps back. I'm done with this."

"So it _is_ about Ziva."

"I would punch you in the face if I wasn't so tired. Don't you have somewhere to be? My life sucks enough without you annoying me."

"Pull it together, DiNozzo, no one likes whiners. Focus on your life, on your job. She'll come to you, eventually."

"What can _you_ possibly know?" Tony poked him in the arm and almost spilled his drink.

"You'd be surprised. I've seen a lot of couples, and I've had a lot of women. It's tough with girls like Ziva, but it's worth it."

"I can't believe you are giving me relationship advice," Tony laughed.

"I might be an asshole to you, but I am a human being."

"You're a dick."

Kort laughed, took a few bills out of his pocket and put them on the bar. "I'll call you a taxi."

"I have a car parked right around the corner."

"Then I should probably blow it up before you sit behind the wheel and kill yourself."

Tony got off the bar stool and leaned against the bar. "Don't. It's too soon to make jokes about blowing up my car, I'm still not drunk enough to laugh at them. And don't bother with the taxi. I'll just walk."

He didn't have to; Kort gave him a ride in his fancy black sedan. When Tony got off the elevator and slowly walked towards his apartment, he realized Trent Kort wasn't one of the bad guys. It was just the CIA that made him look bad. Tony didn't hate him (he didn't really like him, either, though), he hated the agency, what it represented. And right there, when he was trying to put the key in the lock, he hated himself for drinking on empty stomach. Oh, and also for not sending his father to Adams House. The rest of the summer looked suddenly way less exciting than when it started, back when he was trapped in a beach house, eating cookies with peanut butter by the fire, with the woman he loved; the woman who was now home, packing her bags and leaving him in DC.

* * *

**What can you expect in the next chapter:**  
**- I'm not going to give you any spoilers this time, because the next chapter will also be the LAST chapter, but I can promise you some sort of conclusion to Tony and Ziva's relationship.**

**Thank you for reading and let me know how you liked this chapter! The last one should be up in a few days :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**I am terribly sorry for updating this late, but I was literally incapable of writing a single coherent sentence after the news of July 10th. However, I am really glad I got to write this chapter eventually and end the fic properly. After all, I'm doing it for my readers as well, and they deserve a nice proper closure. This chapter is mostly Tiva fluff, so I hope you enjoy it, because we all need a bit of fluff and a happy ending.**

**Oh, also, in case you're interested, here is a list of songs that were the source of my inspiration while writing this fic (and the last chapter in particular):**

**Colbie Caillat ft. Gavin DeGraw - We Both Know**  
**Sam Tsui - Bring Me The Night**  
**Olly Murs - Dear Darlin'**  
**Guy Sebastian - Battle Scars + Armageddon**  
**Marianas Trench - Ever After**  
**Trading Yesterday - May I**  
**Ed Sheeran - Give Me Love**

* * *

The truth was, Ziva wasn't leaving him, or her job. The only thing she desired to leave were the painfully vivid memories of her Mossad days. There was one place she needed to go to contemplate over her past, to find her faith, to save her soul.

Even though Israel reminded her of all the things she was trying to leave behind, it brought her closer to her religion and to her roots. There was no one from her family left in Israel though, there was no one waiting for her. Her family was now in America, and they might not have been related by blood, but she still loved them as if they were.

The first place she went to was the cemetery where her mother and her sister were buried. Ziva put flowers on their graves, and stood there for hours in tears, recalling the time they spent together. She also visited her father's and Ari's graves, feeling the necessity to make peace with both of them.

She spent the next few days travelling across the country, praying, reading the file from Ray over and over, and thinking. It felt almost like a detox; painful, but necessary.

Tony was doing a bit better, however, even he realized the need to get some alone time to work things out, so he took two months of vacation and went to uncle Vincenzo's beach house. As Ziva, he tried to make peace with himself, but in his case it wasn't through prayers and repenting, but through working on the house, drinking beer, watching movies and playing the piano. The house was full of memories, mostly happy ones, of the family he had, of the people he had loved, and the people he had lost. In other words, it was his own little Israel. And as with Ziva, Tony's vacation felt like a detox as well; a detox from her. Tony tried to convince himself that nothing good could possibly come from being in love with a co-worker, and he was determined to get her out of his head and be Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, a man of steel focused on his job and hot women. He was aware it wouldn'tbe easy to just get rid of his feelings for her (especially after eight years of them growing), but he was also aware it was absolutely necessary. He had been having feelings for her for years, but it didn't seem that their relationship was moving forward, even though he wanted to all those years.

The first two weeks were tough; he couldn't stop thinking about her and sometimes he was like "Oh screw it, I'm gonna call her.", but his stubbornness didn't let him. No, he came here to clear his head and start focusing on his job properly again. And even though he knew he couldn't just erase the feelings he had for Ziva, he had to let it go for the sake of them both. How hard could it be, keeping your feelings bottled up and waiting until they just disappeared? Well, it turned out it was going to be a lot harder than he had originally thought.

The work therapy felt great. He had cleaned the attic, redecorated most of the rooms, and then decided to repair the porch, which had taken him roughly three days.

It was late a Monday afternoon, the sun was lazily setting down and Tony was preparing things for a barbecue on the porch, because he was tired of eating in front of the television, so the sunset seemed like a nice change of scenery (and he wanted to spend as much time on the porch as possible, because he felt really proud of what he did with it). He brought the meat from kitchen and was about to turn on the grill, when he noticed a person walking on the beach towards the house. When he realized who it was, he almost dropped the bowl with meat.

"I told you I would come back." Ziva stopped just a few metres from the porch and looked at him, partly amused by his face expression, partly worried he would send her away.

When she last saw him, he was wearing a suit and he was...well, Special Agent DiNozzo. Now, she was looking at a man in a black T-shirt and scruffy jeans and stubble on his face. In that moment, he was just Tony.

"How did you-" He wanted to ask how she had found him, but he realized it was a stupid question right when he opened his mouth.

"You were not at home, so I figured you might be here."

"Yeah, here I am."

They stood there in silence for a few seconds. Then he put the meat on the table and walked down the few stairs to the beach.

She looked almost like the first time he met her: an exotic, mysterious woman with beautiful, wildly tousled curly hair.

"What are you doing here, Ziva?"

"I came home."

"To Maryland?"

"To you."

He bit his lip and looked away, chuckled silently, but put on a serious face once he looked at her again. "Don't ever do that again."

"What exactly?" She was getting seriously worried.

He made a few steps towards her. "Don't ever leave me again. I already almost lost you twice. I can't go through that again."

"You will not have to. I am here and I am not going anywhere."

He nodded lightly and then finally took her in his arms and kissed her. There was just so much in that kiss, all the feelings they had kept inside for years, all the love, the frustration, the fear. It was a sweet ending of one chapter and a passionate beginning of a new one.

When they stopped kissing to catch a breath, Ziva rested her head on his chest and he put his arms around her tightly, like he was worried she might disappear again. But Ziva wasn't going anywhere. She felt so peaceful and happy in his embrace, she would actually prefer not to pull away from him ever again.

It had been a long time since he had felt this good. Suddenly, everything was right, life made sense, and there might be an Apocalypse happening, but nothing would take away that incredible feeling he had when he held her in his arms. The world and its problems seized to exist.

"You must be tired."

"Actually, I am not tired at all, I slept on the plane," she raised her head so that she could look at him. "But I would really like to take a shower."

"Of course, come inside. I have hot water, food, alcohol and tons of film classics. Name it."

"Actually, there is something I want," she said as they were walking into the house, holding hands.

"What is it?"

She let go of his hand and put her bag on the couch. "I will tell you after I take that shower."

"Okay. Towels are on the first shelf in the closet. But you already know that," he smiled, as he remembered the last time they were there.

Tony cleaned up the living room a bit while she was in the shower, and he put the meat back in the fridge. It was really happening. She came back. She came back to _him_. All the thoughts about forgetting her and getting rid of the feelings for her vanished with the memory of her soft lips. How stupid of him, ever wanting to let go of the feelings!

When she came back, he was lighting a fire in the fireplace.

"I hope you do not mind that I borrowed your T-shirt again."

"What if I said I did?"

"Then I would probably have to take it off."

"In that case, I don't mind."

She raised her eyebrows a bit and came closer to him. "There were times you would beg me to take my clothes off."

"First, those times haven't ended yet. Second, I'd actually like to take it off myself."

"There is the Tony I know and love," she laughed softly and placed her hand on his chest.

Tony smiled, as he was leaning to her to kiss her again. This time, it was more passionate and somewhat more urgent. His hands were suddenly all over her body, as they started to move towards the staircase, when she pulled away from him.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, slightly confused; she seemed to like it, so why would she stop? _Oh please don't say we're taking it too fast. No one ever took it any slower than us._

"I want to show you something. You need to see it before anything happens."

"Okay, you're officially scaring me."

Ziva went to her bag, took a thick file out of it and handed it over to him.

"What is it?"

"Me. My past, everything. You have to know everything about me before you decide to be with me."

"It's the old Ziva."

"It is a part of me, Tony, and it always will be, even though it is a closed chapter of my life."

"Let me guess, a generous gift from Ray Cruz?"

"In this file, there are all my demons, all the hideous thing I did and you do not know about. It is my burden, but I have to share it with you. You deserve to know."

"Okay, let me say this," he took her hand and pulled her closer to him. "I love you. I love every single you. The ninja warrior, the Mossad assassin, the fearless NCIS agent, the fragile woman who messes up idioms. I accept and love them all, with all their demons and angels. Nothing that is in this file can make me love you less, it can only make me love you more, because you have been through so much and you are still such a strong, remarkable woman. You did bad things, but you also did a lot of good things. So, I don't care what is in this file. What I care about, is you." With those words, he threw the file in the fire.

"Tony!"

"What? I don't think the CIA will miss it."

"You don't know what was in there."

"I can imagine."

"I do not think you can."

"In case you didn't hear me, I love you despite all those things that were in there."

"I heard you, but-"

"What? Did you think I'd start hating you? After all we've been through? Come on, we're more than that."

"I am glad we are."

"Come here," he put his arms around her. "I still can't believe you're here."

"Your stubble is scratching my forehead," she mumbled in his neck.

"Sorry. I would've shaved if I had known I was gonna have a guest."

"It is okay, I am just teasing you. I actually like it."

"I look like a badass, don't I?" he smirked.

She pulled away a bit and looked at his face. "No, not really, sorry. But you are adorable," she smiled and wanted to give him a light peck on lips, but it turned to a more intense kiss, that kind that made her weak at her knees.

He began moving his hands down her back while kissing her with so much passion it almost freaked him out. He wanted her, he wanted to caress every inch of her body, but he didn't realize before just how strong his desire for her was.

Somehow, they got upstairs, maybe because the part of his brain that was still working convinced him to make the few extra steps because Ziva deserved something more comfortable than a quickie on the floor or on the couch. No, this was the night they've been waiting for so long, and she deserved to be treated like a lady.

When he took off her T-shirt, he stopped kissing her for a few seconds, astonished by her beauty. There was nothing more beautiful or more perfect than her. No one else existed at that moment.

There was only Ziva.

There would always only be Ziva.

It turned out Tony DiNozzo was a much better lover than she had ever imagined. Not that she... Well, yeah, she imagined it. Repeatedly. But now, when it actually happened, she was blown away. He was so loving, caring and passionate, it was almost too good. It was like they clicked immediately, there were no awkward moments, no hesitations.

When she woke up in the morning, her heart was still beating faster than usual. The feeling of happiness, the excitement and love they shared, it was all overwhelming. Tony was still sleeping, one hand on the blanket that Ziva was under, as he fell asleep while covering her at night. Or, maybe, he wanted to make sure she wouldn't leave in the morning, because he immediately woke up when she turned to her left side.

"Morning," he whispered in the pillow, looking at Ziva with one eye opened.

"Hello," she smiled almost shyly.

"Look who's blushing now," he teased her and yawned. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, yes. I wonder what the time is."

"Who cares? It's probably quarter past come here and let's stay in bed the whole day," he pulled her closer to him and kissed her shoulder.

"I am fine with that," she stroked his face and hid under his blanket. "Even though I am a bit hungry."

"Yeah, I'm starving," he laughed quietly in her hair. "I could make pancakes."

"Can we eat them in the bed?"

"Sure, we can do anything we want."

"Good," she cuddled up against him.

"You do realize I have to get up and go to downstairs to make the pancakes?"

"Mhmm."

"But you're not gonna let me go."

"No."

Tony smiled and gave her a kiss on the neck. "Then I guess I'll have to carry you with me," he wrapped her in the blanket and as he was getting off the bed, he took her in his arms and lifted her from the bed as well.

"Tony! Let me go!" she laughed, but put her arms around his neck.

"Never," he whispered in her ear and carried her downstairs.

Making breakfast took them a bit more than they thought it would. They started making out while preparing the ingredients for the dough, and ended up making love on the kitchen table. After that, Ziva went to take a shower, while Tony went back to making the breakfast.

"No cookbook?" she asked him when she came back from the shower.

"This is my mother's recipe. I learnt it from her when I was six. She made me pancakes every time I was sick or sad. Mum's pancakes always worked," he smiled at the frying pan.

"I hope you are not sick or sad now."

"No, I am actually very happy, which is why I decided to make a new tradition."

"Pancakes every time you are happy?"

He flipped one pancake over. "I guess that means I'm gonna have to make pancakes every time we have sex. Because you make me _very_ happy," he turned to her and smirked.

"Well thank you, you are not so bad yourself."

"Is there something you didn't like?" he sounded worried.

He felt her breath on his neck, as she whispered to his ear "I am just teasing you, Tony. Besides, we have plenty of time to practice."

"We are going to eat the breakfast before we go back to...practising, right?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Where do you keep maple syrup?"

"W-what?"

"For the pancakes."

"Oh, right. For the pancakes. Um, it's on the top shelf in the larder."

He was watching her as she was setting the table while humming some melody, and he realized it was the first time ever he had seen her this carefree and happy. Eventually, he almost burnt a pancake because he couldn't get his eyes off her. It just felt so good to see her happy. He couldn't possibly be any more in love with her, or so he thought at that moment.

It was amazing, waking up next to her. He loved making her breakfast, or watching her making dinner. He absolutely loved how she could be cuddly and tender one minute and wild and passionate the next.

She adored how loving he was, all protective and romantic, but at the same time playful and teasing. She loved how he either made her blush or laugh.

Every day, it kept getting better. They cooked together, swam in the ocean, went for long walks on the beach, while talking about movies, God, aliens and just anything that came up to their minds. In the evenings, they were drinking wine, and playing the piano. He opened up to her and told her more about his mother, and then Ziva shared with him a few moments from her childhood and the time she spent with Tali. She opened up to him like she hadn't to anyone in her life before. She also let go of her constant need for self-control, and loosened up a bit.

They had so much fun together; it felt like it was never going to end, like they were in a loop of happiness.

Then one morning, Tony's phone woke them up.

"Ughhh, I thought I turned that thing off," he growled and reached for it. "McGee, I know it's you. Did you turn my phone on remotely? Is that even legal?"

"Actually, it's me, DiNozzo," he heard Gibbs' voice. "Your vacation ends tomorrow, so I'm expecting to see you on Monday back here in DC. Just in case you...forgot."

"Uh...sure, boss, I'll be there. 6am sharp."

"Good. And tell Ziva to get her ass here as well," he said and then hung up. Too bad Tony couldn't see the grin on his face.

"What did he say?" Ziva yawned and looked at Tony, whose face turned pale.

"I think he knows you're here."

"That is not good."

Then, Tony put his phone down and suddenly, he smiled and turned to Ziva. "You know what? I don't care. Screw rule number twelve. I'm not giving this up. Even if it costs my job."

"I am sure we can make this work so that no one has to quit their jobs. Again. But it impresses me that you would give up your job just to be with me."

"Of course I would, I thought I made that clear...many times. But I'm sure we can make it work. We can do anything together."

**The End...?**

* * *

**I'd like to thank you all, my wonderful readers, thanks for the time you spent with my fic, I hope you liked it, and thank you for all those lovely reviews!**

**I've been thinking of writing a kind of "sequel", because getting together is not an end, but actually a start of something new, and I think it might be quite entertaining to see the two of them trying to make things work - with Gibbs, with their job and with each other.**

**So, please, let me know if you'd be interested in reading that. (feel free to suggest some ideas as well)**


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